


always, without falling

by beespiesandplaid



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Valentines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 06:59:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5995969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beespiesandplaid/pseuds/beespiesandplaid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the past three years, Remus has received anonymous valentines gifts that have made no sense. On the fourth year, things fall into place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	always, without falling

**Author's Note:**

> This is shameless, self indulgent, one shot fluff, because I adore wolfstar and I couldn't help myself. Enjoy. :)

Remus looks at the note on his pillow with suspicion. Any note that arrives on your pillow on february 14th should be approached with caution, he has learned.

 

Last year, he opened an envelope and a bird flew out. An actual bird. It then proceeded to sing a song about how the elbow patches on his jumper reached the writer’s loins in a way they never thought possible. 

 

The year before that it had been chocolates. Not just a few chocolates. A huge basket of ridiculously posh, expensive chocolates. Remus didn’t trust them, so he gave them to his friends. Sirius didn’t eat any. 

 

The year before that it had been flowers - piles upon piles of flowers he didn’t know the names of, two kinds, one pale and white, the other something like a foxglove. 

 

So he looked at the note with a vague kind of horror. It wasn’t that he minded - anyone who says they don’t like receiving a valentine’s gift is lying, at least a little. He likes the idea of someone admiring from afar. It’s just he has no clue who it is - no girls take any kind of interest in him, as far as he knows, except Lily and she is infatuated with James, and the only guys he speaks to are Peter, James and Sirius, and he doubts any of them are in love with him. 

 

Which leaves the last and most likely option - it is a prank. Probably devised by James and Sirius and carried out with the help of Peter, and unless he treads carefully, he risks ridicule. 

 

He sighs and picks up the small white envelope and opens it. 

 

_ I thought you would have realized by now. I’m all out of ideas. Open your eyes, Moony. I fucking love you. x _

 

Remus frowns, even as his heart picks up, beating double time. 

 

Only three people call him Moony, and of those three, only one is a possibility. As he reads the note, he can hear it, he can hear Sirius’ voice saying the words, saying them lightly, in the tone he uses when he is covering up what he is feeling. 

 

Remus sits on the bed and leans his head against the cool stone of the wall. Is it a joke? It’s not his style for a prank, really. The bird was more like it, if it was a joke. The chocolates made sense - everyone knew he loved chocolate. The flowers were a mystery. 

 

He runs through all his interactions with Sirius, analysing them. They were close, as close as he and James, but in a different way. With James, Sirius was all laughs and punches and jokes. He could be like that with Remus as well, when everyone else was around. But a lot of the time it was quieter. Sirius would lean against him in the common room, or press a foot into his thigh on the couch, or touch his elbow as he walked past. Remus thought of all the times he had caught his friend looking at him whilst he did something, thought of the times their fingers brushed, thought of the way Sirius had gone quiet when he had dated Gideon briefly last year. 

 

Maybe. 

 

It wasn’t a question of whether he felt the same. Remus had never fallen in love with Sirius, as such. He just always had been, on some level. Since first year, when he first saw him, since second year, when Lily and James had their first run in, and Sirius and Remus stood together on the sidelines, and Sirius turned to him, casually, and said he had nice eyes. 

 

Since third year, when the marauders truly formed, when they spent long nights working on the maps and devising pranks, when Sirius told him about becoming an animagus to be with him on the full moon, and Remus had looked at him, all chaotic black hair and grinning eyes and affection, and known that he never wanted to be apart from him.

 

Since fourth year, when he walked in on Sirius in the showers, and saw his chest and legs and all of him, bare and wet, and Sirius had blushed furiously but laughed later. That had been the year Sirius had started dating. Or rather, slowly working his way through the beds of half the school. The year Remus walked into the bedroom at least once a week and found Sirius attached to someone else, male or female. The year he dated Gideon and hurt every time he looked at Sirius from across the room. 

 

Since fifth year, when Sirius abruptly stopped working his way through the school, and instead sat with Remus every evening, bothering him instead of studying, casually invading his space. The year they stood on the platform before summer, and Sirius looked at him a little too long, lips parted. The year Sirius looked at him, just before they got off the train, and asked, “Don’t you see it?” 

 

And he had looked at him, confused, and said, “See what?” 

 

And Remus had left, and looked back, and wondered why Sirius looked so sad. 

 

And this year, after summer, when Sirius was just the same, but touched him a little less and laughed less often, but still stared just as much. 

 

Remus got up and pulled out the map, finding the dot with Sirius’ name on it. 

 

He found his friend sat by the lake, looking out over the mountains, alone. 

 

“Hey,” Remus said, sitting down beside him. The grass was a little damp. 

 

“Hey,” Sirius said. 

 

“What you doing out here?” 

 

“Waiting.” 

“For?” Remus asks. He knows. He knows and maybe he has known for a long time, maybe as long as he has known his own feelings. 

 

Sirius turns to him. 

 

“Do I need to spell it out, Moony?” 

 

Remus looks at him, and maybe he should nod, because until he hears the words from Sirius’ mouth and sees his face as he speaks them, he is not sure he will quite believe it. But maybe that is part of it, he thinks. That is what it is about. It’s about feeling that uncertainty, that doubt, and speaking anyway, because you feel it too much to hold it in. 

 

Remus shakes his head and breathes in. 

 

“I love you,” he says, and the words taste odd in his mouth, like joy and fear combined, like the feeling of standing at the edge of a cliff and knowing how close you are to both death and flight. 

 

Sirius closes his eyes. “You do?” 

 

“How could I not?” 

 

“I used to think you might have. But then… three years, I sent you gifts, and you never realised, never even thought of me. I stopped dating, spent all my time with you, complimented you. But you never showed anything in return.” 

 

“They were all you? Even the flowers?” 

 

Sirius winces. “I thought they were obvious, Moony. Snapdragons - also known as dogflowers, and moonflowers - night blooming plants. You are excellent at herbology.” 

 

Remus hangs his head. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t… I didn’t think you would feel that for me.” 

 

Sirius leans against him. “Why not, Moony? Why wouldn’t I?” 

 

“Because… I’m me. I’m quiet, and nerdy, and I have bad fashion sense. And you are outgoing and charming and beautiful and..” 

 

“Much as I like these compliments, I have to interrupt,” Sirius says, turning to face him. Their noses are close, almost touching. Remus can see the freckles on Sirius’ cheek. There are five of them, a small constellation framed in a perfect pale sky. “You are wonderful, Moony. For more reasons than I can say. You are funny, and smart, and you understand me, though clearly you don’t understand my heart, and you look beautiful when you wake up and you look beautiful when you are angry and I love the way you dress and the way you bite your lip when you are studying. I like being with you, Moony. It’s never boring. It’s just nice. Like hot chocolate and going to sleep after a long day. I just… there is only you, OK? I sound like a fool right now but it shouldn’t have taken six years.” 

 

Remus didn’t know his heart could beat this fast. He lifts shaking fingers to Sirius’ face, cupping his cheek, thumb brushing his freckles, and leans in, kissing his friend slowly and gently. He feels Sirius shiver against him, lips parting a fraction. They pull away and Sirius wraps an arm around him as they look over the lake. 

  
It isn’t that different, Remus thinks. The earth hasn’t moved. It’s just that the doubt and the longing have gone, been replaced with a simple acceptance and an easy affection. Sirius sneaks his hand under Remus’ jumper, curling it around his hip, and Remus gasps at the cold, and Sirius laughs, and it feels perfect. 


End file.
